


Папа! (or: the kids are alright)

by golden_gardenias



Series: Prompt Fills [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: F/F, Gen, M/M, Stream of Consciousness, i don't really know what else to tag this as, this is so bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_gardenias/pseuds/golden_gardenias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He did another lap around the jungle gym, eyes darting frantically to the swing sets and seesaws and merry-go-rounds.  "Yevgeny?!" This time his voice cracked, getting the attention of another one of the bench parents.  He ignored her stare, trying to swallow the lump in his throat so he could yell his son's name again.  "Yevgeny!  Liam!"</p><p>But it was no use.  The children were gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Папа! (or: the kids are alright)

**Author's Note:**

> bekkachaos said: Ian x Mickey & 43 (:
> 
> i have no clue where this came from, but i hope you like it!
> 
> and [here's the post](http://golden-gardenias.tumblr.com/post/112774139651/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you), in case you were wondering ((43 is "YOU DID WHAT?!"))

Mickey allowed himself some time to enjoy the sunlight warming his skin, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, trying to relax into the hard metal bench and listening for Liam and Yev's squeals as they played in a sandbox. It'd been a long, harsh winter, and he welcomed the warmth, willing it to seep into his pores and thaw out the chill he'd felt in his chest ever since Ian'd convinced him to quit smoking.  "Yev's already at a pretty high risk for asthma," he'd pointed out sternly.  "And you'll probably get emphysema or something."

"The fuck's that?" he'd responded irritably.

Ian had only smiled, rolling his eyes and plucking an unlit cigarette--the last of Mickey's pack--from his mouth and flicking it into the trash can.  "Come on, man, why you gotta do that?" he protested, moving around Ian to retrieve it. "These things cost money."

"Exactly," Ian replied, taking it away from him again.  "Can you imagine how much money we'd save if we weren't buying cigarettes all the time?"

That gave Mickey pause, and Ian took advantage of his silence by bringing his hands up to his boyfriend's waist.  "Plus," he continued slyly, aligning his body with Mickey's, "giving your lungs a break will improve your endurance.  Won't be wheezing while you ride me anymore."  Heat pooled in Mickey's stomach, ears perking up at Ian's tone.  "Won't have to stop sucking me to take a breather."  He pressed his lips against Mickey's ear, and Mickey could feel him smirking.  "Won't have to stop a half mile into our jog."

The words were like an ice bucket, and he stepped out of Ian's arms. "Seriously?  You had to turn that into a jogging thing?"

Ian shrugged, smirk still in place.  "It was worth a shot."

Mickey rolled his eyes, readying himself to depart with a signature disparaging comment before another thought occurred to him.  "I got a better idea, Freckles; how about whenever I feel like smokin' a cig, you and me smoke some poles instead?" 

Ian froze, and Mickey could see his pupils start to dilate.  "You sure about that? You smoke an awful lot, Mick."

Mickey shrugged, trying to play it cool.  "And you get hard a lot; i don't see why we both can't benefit from this."

A sudden pain in his shin drew him out of his reverie, and he jerked up to see a kid running toward him, presumably for the soccer ball resting a few feet in front of him.  "Sorry, mister," he said quietly, biting his lip.

Mickey rubbed his leg, trying to brush his annoyance away.  "Yeah, yeah, it's fine kid," he said brusquely, waving the child off.

The boy ran past the sandbox on his way back to his older sister, and Mickey realized that it was empty.

He furrowed his brows, turning to watch the rest of the playground equipment to see if Liam would poke his head out of a tube or if Yev would fall off something and start crying.  After three scans of the park, he stood, suddenly alert.  "Fuck," he breathed.

He moved to circle the jungle gym, hoping to catch a glimpse of Liam's red t-shirt or hear Yev squeal "Lam!" or "дядя!" like he did every time he saw his uncle, but his search yielded no results.

"Shit. Oh fuck, no.  Please no."  Panic seized his chest, and he brought a shaking hand up to rub at his mouth.  "Liam?" he croaked out.  "Yev?"

A couple of the children playing turned to look at him, but he ignored them, trying to force himself to speak louder despite his dry mouth.  "Liam? Yevgeny?"

He did another lap around the jungle gym, eyes darting frantically to the swing sets and seesaws and merry-go-rounds.  "Yevgeny?!"  This time his voice cracked, getting the attention of another one of the bench parents.  He ignored her stare, trying to swallow the lump in his throat so he could yell his son's name again. "Yevgeny!  Liam!"

But it was no use.  The children were gone.

* * *

Ian's phone vibrated in his pocket for the third time, and he felt worry begin to settle in his chest, replacing the annoyance that had lodged there after the first two calls. The only people who would be calling him knew he was at work, so they wouldn't do it--much less do it repeatedly--unless it was something serious.

His hand was clammy as he fished his phone out of his pocket.  "Mick" flashed across the screen, and he swiped to answer.  "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

He listened to a few seconds of his boyfriend's labored breathing before he got an answer.  "I--I think I lost the kids," he blurted.

Ice shot down Ian's spine.  "You--what?  You did  _what?!"_

Mickey rushed to explain, "I--I took 'em to the park and they were in the sandbox, and--I don't know, i guess I fell asleep on the bench, and when I woke up they weren't here!"

Someone dinged a bell for their order, but he ignored them, trying to control the way the grill space suddenly felt too small.  "Did you ask anyone if they saw them? Show them the pictures on your phone?"

"Yes, of course I did that, jesus," Mickey replied exasperatedly.

"What about the cops; did you call the cops?  And Fiona and Svetlana?"

"I don't have a fuckin' death wish--"

"You have to call them, Mickey," Ian said, voice hard.

"Well excuse me if I wanna avoid getting my balls chewed off!"

"Their  _kids_ are missing, Mickey!"

Fuck. The kids were missing. Is this what Mickey had felt last summer when he came into the living room to find Yevgeny gone? Is this the same terror that had choked Fiona when the ambulance came for Liam after his overdose?

"Hey, what's the hold up?  Everything alright back here?"  

Sean's voice startled him, and he dropped his spatula, spattering himself with grease.  "Shit!"

"Are you on a personal call?  Just because I'm friends with your sister doesn't mean--"

"Can you shut the fuck up for a second?" Ian interrupted, untying his apron with trembling hands. "My son's missing, I have to go."

Fuck. His son is missing. His son and his brother are missing.

"Wait, what?  The little blond kid?"

"Yes," he explained impatiently.  "He's missing, and so's Liam, so could you please get the fuck outta my way?"

Liam and Yevgeny are missing. Five year old Liam and almost two year old Yev are missing. A brief flash of  _They took my baby_  scatters across his mind, but he shoves it away roughly.

Sean stepped aside, barely catching the bundle of cloth Ian thrust into his arms.  "And call Fiona!" he yelled over his shoulder as he rushed out.  "Mick?" he asked into the phone.

"Yeah?" the other boy croaked.

"I'm on my way," he assured him. "Okay? Everything will be fine."

* * *

If Mickey didn't get his hands on a cigarette soon, he was gonna get fucking homicidal.

"Now son, you're  _sure_  you don't remember anyone suspicious?"

He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists, just barely resisting the urge to deck the smug asshole in front of him.  "If I remembered someone suspicious, I'd be talking to  _him_ right now.  And we'd be havin' a  _much more_  interesting conversation, believe me."

The cop gave him a pointed look, and Mickey glared back.  "I already fucking told you everything I remembered; they were in the sandbox, I fell asleep, and then they weren't in the sandbox.  Christ, how fucking incompetent--"

"Mick!"

He turned sharply at the sound of Ian's voice, watching as the other boy ran across the playground and doubled over at his feet.  "Jesus, Ian, did you run here?" he asked, moving to wrap an arm around him and stroke solidly down his back. Maybe if he gave his hands something to grab, they would stop shaking so much.

"My son and baby brother are missing, the fuck did you think I would do?"

His stomach flips;  _My son and baby brother._  He'd lost them. He'd been halfway to having a sex dream on a fucking park bench and lost two little kids. Christ, how fucking  _incompetent_ \--

The cop's brows furrowed in confusion.  "Your son? I thought you were the father?"

"I am," he responds quietly. I'm his father, and I lost him. "We're raising him together." He remains bent over Ian, trying to concentrate on helping him breathe steadily, trying to ignore the sound of all the cars that could've run those two little boys down, trying not to think about all the perverts he'd warned Mandy about when she'd started walking home alone--

"Ах ты грёбаный идиот!"

The boys straightened abruptly, all color draining from their faces.  "Shit," they whispered.

Svetlana rushed toward them with Nika close at her heels, face hard and nostrils flaring.  "Why does Prince Harry's sister call me to tell me you lose baby?" she demanded.  "Every time I leave him with one of you something happens! Пидоры ебанутые--"

The cop cut off her rant, and he found himself grateful; he probably would have vomited all over her, the way his stomach was churning. "Who the hell is this?"

She turned to him, eyes blazing.  "I am Yevgeny's mother.  You find my son?"

"Jeez, this kid has three parents and you still managed to lose him?"

You lost him, he's gone, disappeared an hour ago because you fell asleep and  _fucking lost him_. "Has four, actually," Nika corrects smoothly.

"Four?!"

"Ian!  Oh my god, Ian!"  Fiona runs toward them, and fuck, he can't look at her, not when he's lost another one of her kids, another one of her brothers he was supposed to look out for and  _failed._

The cop pinches the bridge of his nose.  "Who the hell's this?"

"She's my sister, Liam's legal guardian," Ian explains.

"Introduce later, yes?" Svetlana says shortly. "Have kum-ba-ya after I have my Yevgeny."

"What are we doin' standing here? Shouldn't we be looking for them?" Fiona asks, shuffling on the balls of her feet. Her nervous energy is making him shake more, and god he hopes she isn't looking at him.

"We've got people canvassing the area, ma'am," the cop assured her.

"You have dogs?" Svetlana asked.  "To sniff?  Follow scent?"

"There's a K-9 unit on its way now, ma'am."

She narrowed her eyes at him.  "No, it takes too long, they could be anywhere by now!"

They could be anywhere by now. They could be with anyone by now. They could be de--

Nika put her hands on her partner's shoulders, shushing her softly. "It's okay, Любовь моя, they find him."

Svetlana didn't back down, glowering at the man unblinkingly before turning her wrath onto Mickey.  "If _anything_ happens to my Yevgeny," she threatens quietly, "I will bury you alive.  Ты понимаешь?"

He shrinks under her harsh stare, and Ian grabs his wrist. "It's not like he did it on purpose--"

"You don't speak," she hissed. "Don't think that I forget what you did."

Ian recoils from her, but doesn't let go of Mickey.  "That's not fair," he says softly, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. "You know--"

"Oh it's plenty fair," she spits, eyes wild.  "And all I  _know_ , Opie, is that my Yevgeny is gone again, with no one to keep him safe. So do not talk to me about  _fair._ "

No one to keep him safe. Mickey's supposed to keep them safe.

Her voice wavers, and Mickey watches a fresh wave of guilt wash over Ian for his actions last summer; it had taken months to earn Svetlana's trust afterward, and now, despite the fact that he'd had nothing to do with her son's disappearance this time, he felt as though he'd once again been added to her shit list.

He wants to say something, but his tongue feels like cotton. He sees Fiona open her mouth to defend him out of the corner of his eye, but she's interrupted by a small voice. "Mama!"

Mickey whirls around so quickly his neck cricks, but he doesn't feel the pain. Liam and Yevgeny are walking up to them, holding hands and contentedly sucking on popsicles.  Both of their mouths are ringed red, shirt collars damp and shorts stained.  Yevgeny's grin is huge, and he waves to his mother excitedly, not used to seeing her at this time of day.

"Oh,  _мышка!_ " Svetlana cries, rushing to her son and embracing him. "Ты в порядке? Ты не ранен? Рассказывай!"

The relief almost crushes him, and if Ian weren't holding his hand he would forget how to breathe.

Fiona runs to Liam, scooping him up and crushing him to her chest.  "Are you okay, peanut?" she asks softly, kissing his cheek.

"Did you run off on Mickey, buddy?" Ian chides, reaching to take him from Fiona. "You scared us."  His voice almost shakes more than his hands. Almost.

Mickey's hands itch, and he doesn't know if it's because his son is giggling or because Svetlana is glaring. 

The cop clears his throat and approaches the Gallagher siblings tentatively. "Liam?" he asks softly.  "My name's Officer Powell, but you can call me Rudy. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

Liam bites his lip, looking to Fiona as if asking permission.  "Go ahead, nugget. Come on, let's go sit over here."

She leads them to the bench Mickey had fallen asleep on earlier, and he sits on the ground, watching Yevgeny squirm on his mother's lap. Almost as if he can feel Mickey's eyes on him, the baby turns to stare, holding his gaze and smiling. "Папа!" he squeals, reaching for him.

Svetlana fixes him with a cold stare before handing him over. He lets the baby's warm weight settle against his chest, feels tiny hands grip his cheeks, try to arrange his face into a smile. It's a game he and Yev had recently discovered; Mickey would set his face into the hardest frown or scowl he could manage, and Yevgeny would pout and pat at him until they were both smiling like dopes.

"You wanna tell us what happened, buddy?"

The cop's--Rudy's--voice cuts through his musings, and he tears his eyes away from the toddler's drool to watch Liam.

He turns to Yev and smiles.  "Yev wanted a snack," he said simply.

Rudy paused. "He wanted a snack," he repeated slowly, testing the words out on his tongue.

Liam nods. Yevgeny bats at his face to get his attention. "Yup. Mickey was sleeping, so we went to get snacks. Carl and Lip show me how to get in ice cream trucks before."

"They showed you how to break into ice cream trucks?" Fiona asks incredulously. All Mickey can hear is  _We wanted snacks. Mickey was sleeping. Someone offered us candy. Someone took us to an ice cream parlor. We were never seen or heard from again._

"No!" he laughs, like the idea was absurd. "They break in for me, and I watch them."

Fiona and Ian share surprised glances. "You learned how to break into ice cream trucks by watching your brothers?" she clarifies.

"Mhm. It took long time to find one, but it was worf it." He leans back to lounge against his sister, patting his belly with a satisfied look on his face. Mickey feels Yevgeny's small hand rest on his chest, right over his still pounding heart, and all he can think is  _No, it wasn't worth it._

"Jeez, kid, how old are you?" Rudy mutters.

Liam extends his left hand, all of his fingers spread out. "Пять лет!"

The change in language startles him, and Yevgeny claps.

Svetlana looked delighted. "Такой большой мальчик, да?" she asked, nudging him conspiratorially.

"Да!" he giggled.

"И большие мальчики должны быть ответственными, да?"

Liam took a moment to digest her question before answering reluctantly. "...Да."

She leaned over to look him in the eye, keeping her mouth soft but eyes serious. "Ответственные мальчики не забирают детей без спроса. Да?"

He gulped before nodding. "Да," he answered solemnly.  "I'm sorry."

She kissed his forehead. "I know, котик. Don't do it again."

"I won't," he vowed.

The group stared at them in awe as they straightened up. "When'd you teach him that?" Fiona asked, eyes wide.

Svetlana shrugged, reaching over to wipe drool from her son's face. "He asks me what I'm saying when I babysit him, so I teach him. И он очень способный ученик," she added, winking at him.  He beamed at her praise.

Yevgeny's hands rest comfortably on Mickey's wrists, thumbs putting the slightest of pressure on the veins of the inside, and he knows he won't put the baby down for the rest of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations (some of which may not be entirely accurate because i'm not yet a fluent speaker):
> 
> "дядя!" -- "Uncle!"  
> "Ах ты грёбаный идиот!" -- "You fucking imbecile!"  
> "Пидоры ебанутые" -- "Crazy-ass f*ggots"  
> "Любовь моя" -- "my love"  
> "Вы понимаете?" -- "You understand?"  
> "мышка! Ты в порядке? Ты не ранен? Рассказывай!" -- "Little mouse! (russian term of endearment) Are you okay? Are you hurt? Tell me!"  
> "Папа!" -- "Papa!" or "Daddy!"  
> "Пять лет!" -- "Five years old!"  
> "Такой большой мальчик, да?" -- "Such a big boy, yes?"  
> "И большие мальчики должны быть ответственными, да?" -- "And big boys must be responsible, yes?"  
> "Ответственные мальчики не забирают детей без спроса. Да?" -- "Responsible boys don't take baby. Okay?"  
> "котик" -- "pussycat" (russian term of endearment)  
> "И он очень способный ученик" -- "And he's a very good student."
> 
> let me know if there are any mistakes!


End file.
